Religious Experience Through Loyalty to a Great Cause

Experiments in Personal Religion: Study V
Religious Experience through Loyalty to a Great Cause
H. N. Wieman

Experiment in Loyalty to a Cause

1. The Problem

The great cause is the all inclusive enterprise of enlarging and refining the life of man, an enterprise in which we each may have a share. When we consider this cause, and how to make personal connection with it, we are immediately confronted with a practical problem.

Can I be sure that the specific thing which I find to do is wholly and significantly of service to this cause? Can I be sure that I am doing, or can do, anything for the cause which is sufficiently worth while to command my full devotion? The cause is all right, but my part in it -- that is the problem. Can I be sure that I, even with the best intentions and utmost effort, shall not be producing at least some results through my work that positively obstruct the cause? That such results do ensue is evident to anyone who with unbiased mind will carefully observe his own experience and study the historic record. Every specific and definite form of human need in this evil world will, when satisfied by me in so far as I am able to satisfy it, lead to evil as well as good. There is no church or other institution with which I can work which will not involve me in evil. There is no campaign or enterprise or group of men with which I may ally myself which is not tainted and productive of evil. And many times the evil results are greater than the good. Every concrete specific undertaking which men have begun with high hope and great enthusiasm has been disappointing in the end to those who were sufficiently observant, humble, and open-minded to see the evil and futility of their efforts along with whatever good may have resulted.

Men do not necessarily think the matter out in the way we have presented it; they do not analyze their feelings; but their problem with respect to any great cause brought to their attention is often of just this sort. They do not respond with full devotion either because the cause is not sufficiently definite, concrete, and close'at hand so they can make direct connection with it, or else the specific and concrete thing presented has none of that indubitable and overmastering urgency and grandeur that can command their complete loyalty. You and I and most men would respond readily and completely and passionately if we could be sure that the concrete and immediate piece of work accessible to us was altogether pure and glorious, and that our devotion to it would really count for something of importance in service of the great cause. But as soon as a cause becomes embodied in concrete form in this evil and complicated world it ceases to be pure. It cannot command our hearts, and it should not. The evil is so intricately involved in the good, the tares so mixed with the wheat, and there is so much uncertainty concerning just what is the wheat and what the tares, that we cannot make direct connection with the great cause.

Here, then, is our practical problem: How to find the great cause in such form that we can yield our lives to it.

One way to solve this problem is that of the fanatic. He blinds himself. to the evil and tawdry features involved in the enterprise to which he gives his allegiance. He has found a "great cause," to be sure. He may call it Christ or socialism, Kingdom of Heaven or vegetarian diet, saving souls or pacifism. The slogan he uses makes little difference. The point is that he is able to esteem his cause so great, and can give it his unreserved devotion, only because he will not admit what others less prejudiced can plainly see. He will not admit that the cause as served by him is mixed with all manner of worthless and evil things, and in the end may result in as much harm as good. He makes himself think he is engaged in something wonderful when he is not. Such fanaticism is not the transfiguring loyalty which we need and crave. It is not the loyalty which the preceding part of this paper has presented. Yet we can see all about us and read in the historic records that no matter how devoted men may have been, and no matter how sure of serving a great cause, they have always wrought evil as well as good, and often the results of their efforts, when closely examined, can be seen to have been quite futile.

Where and how shall we find our cause, we who refuse to deceive ourselves and follow the fanatic? How can we catch the transfiguring devotion without surrendering to fanaticism?

2. The Proposition

This world has some possibility for maximum good which can be achieved through right adjustment of the different factors which enter into the making of it. What this possible maximum good may be we do not know. Eye hath not seen it nor ear heard, neither hath it entered the heart of man in the form of any dream or vision. Our thoughts concerning its nature may be mistaken. Indeed, our ideas of it in great part must he mistaken, else we would not disagree about it so radically and violently. And our ways of serving that cause must be mistaken in great part else we would not so commonly work at cross-purposes. But despite these facts it is a self-evident truth to say that among all the possibilities for good and evil which are inherent in this universe there is one or more which is the maximum good. This genuine possibility for maximum good inherent in the universe may be called the cause of Christ, the will of God, the Kingdom of Heaven, the utmost welfare of mankind, etc., but its specific nature and the best way to promote it is something about which only the fanatic is sure; and he is probably most mistaken of all.

There is no straight-cut and definite course of action known to us which will lead directly to the actualization of this possible maximum good. It is too mysterious, too ill defined in our own minds; the processes of life are too intricately interwoven, and we are too ignorant of the outcome of any suggested course of procedure. There is, however, one course of procedure and one way of living in which we can give our whole lives in complete loyalty to that unknown good.

3. The Method

The intelligent method of loyalty to the supreme but unknown good consists in throwing the light of observation and experimental investl gation over all the processes of life. That means first of all that we shall examine ourselves and constantly observe ourselves to see what habits, what impulses, what mental attitudes produce what consequences, and try to ascertain the value of these consequences.

Secondly, it means that we shall constantly observe what customs, what mutual adaptations within our own family and between ourselves and other intimate associates, yield deeper community of heart and mind and greater co-operation. Thirdly, it means that we shall constantly observe and investigate what consequences result from what social customs, and other conditions generally in the world round about us. Of course no man can cover all these fields of investigation. But every man can take his own special line of endeavor, whatever it may be, and make it a field of constant and searching observation and experimental investigation to the end of ascertaining what results for good or ill may ensue. Also, every man can make his own personal conduct in dealing with his own intimate associates a matter of search' ng inquiry.

What constitutes the significance of this method? Its significance lies in this: that we rest our hope for the ultimate actualization of supreme good, not on the success of any specific practical enterprise, but upon the slowly garnered wisdom which is yielded by this method of indefatigable observation. It means that we shall turn our very failures and worst disasters into tools for the achievement of this ultimate good, inasmuch as such failures and disasters yield the largest harvest of wisdom if we constantly keep in the clear light of consciousness, just so far as we can, all the factors which led up to the failure or disaster.

Seasons for cultivating and practicing most intensely this observation are seasons of worship. Where are we going? What have we been doing? What attitudes on our part and on the part of humankind have produced what results, and what are the values of these? Such questions ought properly to find some answer in the season of worship. For worship ought to be a mountain top whence we can survey our lives and the lives of men. We are not saying this is all there is to worship; but this is an essential part of it. Of course, however, the observation of life cannot be limited to worship. Our whole point is that it must be constantly practiced. But nothing can be constantly practiced unless we set aside certain times for its special cultivation. Worship is such a time.

Some may object to this proposed method of observation, thinking that it will destroy the great joys and enthusiasms of life. Sometimes, they say, we must abandon ourselves to some "fine careless rapture," and disregard consequences. Now it is true that constant, critical observation of self and others and life as a whole does destroy joy and enthusiasm except as this constant critical examination is made the embodiment and expression of passionate devotion to the supreme cause. And that is precisely what we are proposing.

We suggest this method of solving the problem of how to make personal connection with the great cause: (1) constant, searching, critical, and experimental observation in everything we do to promote the good; (2) measure our service to the good not merely by objective achievement but by the wisdom gained in how to do good. Thus we shall transmute our very failures, disappointments, disillusionments, and difficulties into gain. We can begin by applying this method and assuming this attitude in any minor undertaking which we have begun or are about to begin. (3) We can take certain seasons of worship for special examination of what we have done, how we have done it, and also for reaching conclusions on the grounds of these observations.

The results to look for as tests of this method are: (1) change in the kind of things we undertake; (2) change in the wav we go about doing it; (3) increase in the final value of what we do; (4) transfer of our highest loyalty and deepest enthusiasm from the special task to that unknown good which we serve by slowly bringing it to light through the accumulated wisdom of history, our chief service being assimilation of, and contribution to, this wisdom of life. In this way lives which fail magnificently may be great successes. Perhaps this kind of failure is the genius of Christianity and the spirit of Christ.